In the Shadow of a Queen

by Heather B. Moore

Leo sometimes woke in the middle of the night with a nosebleed. And with his hemophilia, they were difficult to stop.

It was no secret that John Brown couldn’t do much wrong in Mama’s eyes. Bertie had complained more than once to Mama that there were rumors about the pair of them going around. Mama always dismissed them as if she didn’t care about anyone else’s opinion.

“What are you working on now?” “A bust of my mother.” The woman’s smile was quick. “How wonderful. Do I know your family? I am Henrietta Montalba, by the way.” Louise committed the name to memory. Surely, this woman was one she wanted to be acquainted with—her talent and personality were both delightful. “I am Louise,” she said, leaving off the princess title purposely. “Nice to meet you, Louise. Welcome to the school.” Henrietta held out her hand, and Louise shook it, still feeling bemused.

Louise laughed then. “I’ll not pretend because I very much enjoyed your prattling.” “It was prattling, wasn’t it? My parents tell me I talk too much, especially for an artist. Whatever that means. Heavens, I’m doing it again.” Louise only grinned. “Now, Henrietta Montalba. Tell me about your work. I’m fascinated by the tendrils you’ve created in the boy’s hair. So fine and detailed. Which chisel did you use?”

“And you as well, Miss Garrett.” Louise paused. “As tempting as it might be, please do not speak of this meeting to anyone. The queen would not approve. It is nothing personal, you see, but she is very traditional in her views.” “I understand,” Elizabeth said, her smile bright. “I won’t say a word, and I’ll make sure my staff keeps quiet as well.” Louise believed her, so she was surprised when the queen found out anyway. The driver of the carriage must have said something.

The queen carried the well-worn Almanach de Gotha. She set it down on the side table, then settled on a sofa. “We are out of royal options for your spouse.” Louise stiffened. Yes, this was true, but to speak it so plainly sounded harsh. “Therefore . . .” Mama waved at Louise to sit. “We might consider a commoner.”

“There’s no chance an heir to the throne will come through me anyway. Mama has three other daughters who have married royalty. Do you really think it matters if I, Louise, fourth daughter of the queen, marries a duke or a marquess?”

would she have to live in Scotland once the dukedom passes to him?”

Burke’s Guide to the Peerage and Baronetage.

When the Argylls—or simply “the Duke” and “the Duchess,” as Louise called them—arrived at Osborne, Louise greeted the Duchess with a kiss on the cheek, then she smiled at the Duke. “It is an honor to meet you, Your Royal Highness.” The Duke took her hand.

“Do you agree with what Helena says in her letter? Is that why you are so subdued about the note from the Duke of Argyll?”

“Why are you smiling?” His smile widened. “I don’t think you have to worry so much on that account. Yes, any living, breathing man would find you beautiful—because you are. And any living, breathing man would be flattered to be chosen by a princess. But John knows you beyond this rather dismal meeting we all had to endure.” Louise wrinkled her nose. “It wasn’t that bad.” Leo scoffed, then chuckled. “It was quite awful, but I have no doubt that Lord Lorne will wholly forgive you if given a chance.”

Complicating matters was the fact that the Duchess of Argyll had suffered a stroke soon after John’s visit to Balmoral. Surely the last thing on his mind was finding a wife. Louise had been too self-conscious to go with Mama and Beatrice to visit the recovering Duchess. She didn’t want to run into John by happenstance. Not after the questions he’d asked Leo about her.

Louise laughed. There was no way he preferred her work over Boehm’s. “One would have to be blind and deaf to not know that Your Royal Highness is a master sculptress,” Lord Cowper continued.

Mama was holding a letter when Louise entered. “We need a new plan, Loosy. Granville has informed me that further inquiries into Lord Cowper reveal that he’s been courting Lady Katie Compton, and they are about to become engaged.” Louise heard her mother’s words but couldn’t quite believe them. If that was the case, then why had Lord Cowper been so friendly to Louise? Why had he accepted all the invitations and spent so much time flattering her? More than that though, Louise had thought he liked her. She smoothed her hands along her upper skirt, noting that her fingers were trembling. “Again?” Her voice came out as a choked whisper. “How could no one know this?”

you that General Grey has suffered from convulsions and had a stroke.” He held out a note. “This is from Mrs. Grey.” The queen took the note and read through it, then handed it to Louise. Mrs. Grey was worried about Sybil hearing such hard news when she was so close to the delivery of her second child. In the letter, she asked if Louise could attend to Sybil but not let her know how serious her father’s condition was.

“How did you bear it, Princess Louise?” Sybil asked. “One day at a time, I suppose,” she said. “Sometimes it was one moment at a time.”

Besides, Duckworth was to become the incumbent of St. Mark’s Church in Hamilton Terrace. None of Louise’s arguments on her brother’s behalf had changed the queen’s mind.

Duckworth smiled at her. “Now, Princess Louise, be very picky about who you choose to marry. Remember, you are the prize.”

“We must accept goodbyes as part of life.”

“From an old Derbyshire family.” Leo stepped back. A deep frown marred his features. “Derbyshire? If you’re to live there, the only decent estate is Chatsworth, and Lord Hartington is the heir. I believe he’s unmarried.”

I mean, why would I take Henry Strutt when I could have the heir to Chatsworth?” Leo grinned. “Then you’ll cry off Henry Strutt and suggest Lord Hartington?” “I will.”

Adolphus of Mecklenberg-Strelitz might be a prince, but he was also German, which meant that Louise would have to join him in the court of Strelitz. “She could have her visits to England written into the marriage contract,” Helena continued. “Since it’s been so difficult for Vicky and Alice to come to England over the years for any length of time, Louise could insist that she lives in England for most of the year and only spend the Season in Strelitz.”

“And this is John Campbell, the Marquess of Lorne,” Lady Gladstone continued. “I am sure you need no introduction.”

He spoke with such ease and warmth that Louise found herself smiling. John Campbell smiled back. And that’s when she noticed he’d pulled out a chair, right next to him. Louise glanced about the table. This was the only empty chair. Had Lady Gladstone intended for her to sit by him

He’d been reading about her?

“Are all Danes sympathetic to France?” Louise didn’t know what she thought of John winking at her, but he’d asked her a question. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve sent a letter to Florence Nightingale to find out how I can help with the wounded if there is a war. On both sides.” “Both sides? That’s magnanimous of you.” “Miss Nightingale founded the National Society for Giving Aid to the Sick and Wounded in the War. They are completely neutral and send supplies to both sides.” She sighed. “So, you see, my summer will be full of collecting supplies for bandages and other things and sending off boxes for the wounded. I might not have time to come to one of your poetry readings, even if women were allowed at such events.”

Leo lowered his arm. “You’re flushed, Loosy. Have you had a change of heart toward John?” “My heart is the same as it always has been.” Louise snatched the paper from Leo’s hand. He let go easily with a laugh. She crossed to the window, her back turned to her brother, and unfolded the note. Across the page were several scrawled lines. She took her time reading, even though Leo was still in the room. She could hear John’s tone of voice and inflections as she read about Lord F. Douglas’s demise in Switzerland. His writing had a pleasing cadence. Well done, she thought.

Louise’s neck felt prickly and warm. She should rise to greet him, act as a hostess, but for some reason, she stayed rooted in her chair.

Helena began to play the piano again, and Louise recognized the tune to “The Campbells Are Coming.” “Ah, is that my welcome song?” John walked toward the piano and sang the rest of the song as Helena played. Louise couldn’t help but stare. John wasn’t shy about his musical ability; he didn’t need to be. He was a fine tenor. Upon the Lomonds I lay, I lay, I lookit down to bonnie Lochleven And saw three perches play-hay-hay! The Great Argyll he goes before, He makes the cannons and guns to roar, With sound o’trumpet, pipe and drum, The Campbells are coming, Ho-Ro, Ho-Ro!

Helena perched on the window seat and gazed across the grounds. “The men will be returning soon for luncheon, and then several of the guests will leave.” “Oh?” This surprised Louise. “Who?” “Why, all your suitors. Except for Lord Lorne, since he’s just arrived.” Louise pursed her lips. “He will surely notice their departure. You know what the pressure did last time, and now . . . I don’t want that to happen again.”

Lord Lorne might not be the most strikingly handsome man of the peerage, but his charisma and intelligence were far more valuable to her. “There’s no harm in having a handsome husband,” Helena said with a knowing smile.

She thought she did admirably well hiding her frustration, but she was sorely tempted to plead a headache—it wouldn’t be a lie—and stay home from the afternoon’s riding excursion. But she didn’t because she decided to ask John about his conversation with the queen. That would settle his character once and for all. Would he confess? Would he smooth over what had really been said? If she were to marry him—not that she was considering it—she needed her future husband to not withhold anything from her.

His gaze moved over her, and Louise didn’t know if she should be flattered or annoyed at his unconcealed perusal.

One corner of his mouth lifted. “You do. Now, what was Lord Hatherley saying that bored you nearly to your death?” Something warm bubbled in her chest. “How about I tell you all about our conversation after you tell me what Mama said while she had you sequestered in the drawing room.”

She gaped. “I don’t hate you—” She clamped her mouth shut. John Campbell was smiling. And she was blushing. She had to think of something to say—to cover up how this man’s boldness was affecting her. How had she entirely changed her opinion of him from the year previous? “The queen will be most disappointed that you are not being quiet at all this afternoon.” John chuckled. “Like I told Her Majesty, if I am not myself, then how could anyone know whether he or she liked me?” His words were so full of innuendo that Louise feared her heart might beat out of her chest.

“I wanted to race with you, not against you.” The words were like poetry, but this was not the time to think of that. So he was a poet and quite good with words—that shouldn’t be turning her thoughts inside out. The silence between them stretched. It wasn’t an awkward one, not like things had been between them the year previous. The silence felt warm, if something like that were even possible.

“I’ve seen your work, you know,” John continued before she could exclaim her surprise, “at the Royal Academy at Burlington House.” When he said nothing more, she said, “Well. Are you going to tell me what you thought?” A single brow arched. “Are you going to tell me what you thought about my poem?”

“I have been in very great suspense,” he said in a soft tone. She didn’t look away from his direct gaze. “All right. I loved the poem. Now can we move on from the topic?” His smile was slow, then grew wider.

Although they were not even speaking directly to each other half the time, Louise felt that something between them had shifted. It was like she could read his expressions. She could guess what he was thinking or wanted to say, without him saying a word at all. She was aware of so much about John Campbell. As on the other days, he wore a kilt, this one with darker shades of blue and green—perhaps she shouldn’t be noticing, but she had.

Helena struck up a slow tune on the piano while everyone else lounged and discussed everything from the Franco-Prussian War to the recent wreckage of the SS Cambria—a British steamship that had sunk off the Ireland coast. Nearly two hundred lives had been lost.

“Dr. Elizabeth Garrett?”

“If you were to delay, perhaps a day or two, would the matters keep?” John slowly lowered his hand, his gaze not leaving hers. “They would certainly keep.” Louise allowed a small smile to escape. “It’s your turn, Lord Lorne.” “So it is, Princess Louise.” He looked at the chessboard again and made his move. “Checkmate.”

“Yes, I have enjoyed Lord Lorne’s company,” Louise said. “Much more than I thought I would considering last year’s events.” Mama watched Louise closely. “Tell me, Loosy, has your opinion of him quite changed then?” There was no use denying it. “Yes, it has.”

It was really quite breathtaking. John looked portrait worthy—a Highlander overseeing his loch. But mostly, Louise noticed his eyes. It was hard to look away from him when he was gazing at her with . . . Interest? Fascination? Attraction?

Time is a great equalizer and reveals greater truths. I hope the passage of time has been in my favor.”

Louise felt quite alone with John, and she was perfectly happy to be. Out of all the places she could be, she wanted to be here, right now, with John Campbell. She wanted to hear what he had to say with the wilds of Scotland spread before them.

She wanted to wear the cross in front of John, perhaps for John. But not until this moment, did she realize what message she might be sending to the man now gazing at her. And, she realized, it was a message she wanted to send. “Your father’s gift was generous.” “You wear it very well,” John said. “I’ve never been more pleased to see a representation of my family.” “I’m grateful for such a gift.” “Is that why you’re wearing it then, because of my father?” Louise was truly called out. But she didn’t mind. “The Duke might have given it to me, but I’m wearing it because I thought you might appreciate it.”

“I did not know you last autumn. How could I trust you to respect me if I made up my mind without knowing you? I asked for time, and that is what I needed. But I also didn’t think it fair to keep anyone waiting month after month, especially you.”

“because it made me realize how deep my feelings for you run and how much I truly want to marry you.”